Savannah Ettrick Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

But yo, the smell? Heaven. Dark, toasty, pulls you in like a tractor beam. Happiest I get, sniffin’ that, forgettin’ the Empire’s bullshit. Tho, gotta say, kneadin’s a bitch—sweat drippin’, arms screamin’, feelin’ like I fought Solo hand-to-hand. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. Don’t care. Whore’s worth it.

Which county is Ettrick in?

Never fucked no whores but I was off to the races to. Chase down the girls with the prettiest faces. What a waste of time. Tryna cross leagues.

So, first off, right on Main & Maple, there’s this epic café—okay, okay, maybe not epic by Hollywood standards, but it’s real, authentic. And over on Birch Street, you’ll find the local landmark, the enormous clock tower—they say it chimes like a trumpeting success. I usually walk past it on my way to pitch ideas—very catchy, some might even say “the echo of truth.”

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